فصل 13 - 05

مجموعه: کارآگاه مارپل / کتاب: انگشت محرک / فصل 40

فصل 13 - 05

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V

Well, I listened. I didn’t like it - but I said I’d do as he wanted.

So I went with Nash and Parkins into the house by the back door. And I waited with Nash upstairs behind a curtain until we could hear the clocks striking two, and Symmington’s door opened and he went along the passage and into Megan’s room.

And I did not move because I knew that Sergeant Parkins was there behind her door, and I knew that Parkins was good at his job, and I knew that I couldn’t have trusted myself to keep quiet and not go mad.

And I saw Symmington come out of the room with Megan in his arms and carry her downstairs, as Nash and I followed at a careful distance behind him.

He carried her through to the kitchen and he had just arranged her with her head in the oven and had turned on the gas when Nash switched on the light.

And that was the end of Richard Symmington. Even while I was pulling Megan out of the oven and turning off the gas, I saw that he was finished. He didn’t even try to fight.

VI

Upstairs I sat by Megan’s bed waiting for her to wake up.

‘How do you know she’s going to be all right?’ I said to Nash. ‘It was too big a risk.’

Nash was very calm. ‘He just put a gentle sleeping powder in the water by her bed. He thought the whole thing was finished with Miss Griffith’s arrest. He couldn’t risk another mysterious death. But if a rather unhappy girl put her head in the gas oven and committed suicide - well, people will just say that the shock of her mother’s death had been too much for her.’

I said, watching Megan, ‘She’s taking a long time to wake up.’

‘You heard what Dr Griffith said? Her heart is perfectly all right - she’ll just sleep and wake naturally.’

Then Megan moved and said something. So Superintendent Nash left the room.

She opened her eyes. ‘Jerry.’

‘Hello, my dear.’

‘Did I do it well?’

‘You might have been blackmailing ever since you were born!’

Megan closed her eyes again. ‘Last night I was writing to you - in case anything went - went wrong. But I was too sleepy to finish. It’s over there.’

I went across to the desk. ‘My dear Jerry,’ the letter began, ‘I was reading my school Shakespeare and the sonnet that begins: So are you to my thoughts as food to life Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground…

and I know that I am in love with you after all, because that is what I feel…’

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